


War Never Changes

by Gl1tchG1rl



Series: Ain't That a Kick in the Head? [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry is the Courier, Fallout AU, It'll get there though, Len has the parka instead of Benny's suit, Leonard is Benny, M/M, Pre-Slash, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gl1tchG1rl/pseuds/Gl1tchG1rl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen is a courier, hired by the Mojave Express, to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip. What seemed like a simple delivery job has taken a turn for the worse. After an incident with a man in blue he wakes up in a town called GoodSprings with almost no memory of who he is or what happened to him. His only choice is to go after the one person he can remember clear as day, it just so happens that this man is also the one that left him for dead in a ditch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Never Changes

Deliveries were never too hard for Barry. He was light on his feet and didn't attract attention from the wrong groups.

Not often anyway.

It was because of the lack of violence he'd had on the past few deliveries that he didn't expect his current delivery to be any different. Just a quick run up to the New Vegas Strip and that was that. Yet only a day into his delivery he was attacked from behind and Barry woke up to the brisk night wind of the Mojave, his hands and feet bound. In his dazed state he tugs at the binds, hearing voices in front of him but too nervous to look up.

“You got what you're after. Let's just finish this and get outta here.”

“You're crying in the rain, Mick.”

Slowly Barry looked up to face his captors, the one on the left was fitted in leather raider armor while the one on the right wore a dark blue parka. He wondered why he had such a warm getup since they were in the desert, but it did get pretty nippy at night so it he decided it was reasonable. Barry shifted around enough to where he was sitting down instead of just laying there. He fell less vulnerable that way even if it was just false security. After all he was the one tied up.

“Time to cash out.” The man in the parka said as he stopped about a yard away from Barry.

“Will you get it over with already?” The man to his left snapped. Barry thought his name was Mick from what he heard earlier.

He stopped and held his hand up, giving Mick a disapproving look. “Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I'm not a Khan, am I?” He smirked a little when Mick glared at him but just gave him a small nod, then turned back to Barry and pulled something out of his pocket.

Barry's eyes went wide when he saw the platinum chip that he was supposed to be delivering to someone in New Vegas. “You made your last delivery, kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene.” He put the chip back in the pocket of his parka before pulling out a pistol. Barry eyed the 9mm wearily for a moment.

“From where you're kneeling it must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck. Truth is, kid... This game was rigged from the start.”

***

“You're awake. How 'bout that.”

Barry groaned softly and blinked a few times to clear his fuzzy vision. He pushed himself up but was hit with a sudden feeling of nausea.

“Woah, easy there, easy. You've been out cold a couple days now. Why don't you just relax for a second and we'll see what the damage is... How about your name? Can you tell me your name?” Barry stared at the old man with curiosity but also caution.

It was a simple question, but for some reason he struggled to find an answer. “Barry... Allen. My name is Barry Allen.” He said slowly, obviously unsure of himself. He tried remembering what brought him to this mans care, what happened even before that, but everything was just a cluster of blurred memories and blank faces.

The man seemed to notice his hesitance but nodded.“Well it's not something I'd have picked for yah, but if that's your name then that's your name.” He said in a failed attempt to lighten up the mood. “My name is Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings.”

“Thanks...”

“Hope yah don't mind but I had to go diggin' around in your noggin a bit to get all the lead out.” He handed Barry a small mirror and aside from the bandages around his head and bruised lip he looked fine.

“Not bad. I think you did a pretty nice job, Doc.” Barry gave him a smile, having to get a little help when he finally stood up from the bed.

They spent the next twenty minutes or so giving Barry a quick psyche test to make sure he wasn't completely out of it. When it came to anything related to his past, friends or family, place of work, even trivial things like his age, they all were answered with 'I don't know' or 'I don't think so'. Aside from the blurry memory he seemed to be in good mental health. No blood thirst or crazed elements to be found.

After downing a bottle of Nuka-Cola, Barry was ready to head out back into the Mojave and hopefully find someone that could tell him what caused him to be found nearly bleeding to death in a ditch. At least that's how Doc told him he was found. It would explain the bandages around his head.

“Here. Was all yah had on yah when yah were brought in. I took a look at the note to find a possible next of kin but all it was talking about was some platinum chip.” Barry gave Doc a thank you, slinging the bag over his shoulder and strapping his pistol to his waist. It felt good to be armed again even if it wasn't much compared to most of the other weapons in the Mojave. “If you're lookin' to head back out there yah ought to have this too.”

Doc took Barry's left arm and strapped something to his wrist. “They call it a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the war. We all got one.” The small machine flickered to life as it quickly synced with Barry's vitals. He couldn't help but stare in amazement. “Ain't much use to me now, but you might want such a thing, after what you've been through.”

“It won't go to waste, Doc. I can't thank you enough for all you've done.” Barry nodded, wiggling his hand a little bit as he tried getting used to the device on his wrist. “Do you um- do you have anything I might be able to change into?” He asked once he saw all the dirt and blood that was on his clothes. He was handed an old vault suit and gave Doc a curious look.

“Never was much my style. Bet it'll fit you just fine though.” Doc chuckled softly, waiting as Barry walked off for a few minutes to change into the blue and yellow jumpsuit. “You going after the man that shot yah?”

Barry didn't remember much about being shot, definitely not who shot him or why. He tried to focus on some small detail from that night that might help him remember more but he didn't expect the memory to hit him as hard as it did.

Time seemed to slow as Barry braced himself against the small table, trying to recover from the wave of panic that made his knees weak and his head spin. The memory was set on repeat in his mind and he couldn't shake the fear of being shot with no way to defend himself. Barry was snapped out of his little bubble of panic and flashbacks when Doc touched his arm and tried helping him calm down.

“Are yah good, Barry?” Doc asked, but it sounded like he was twenty feet away instead of being right beside him.

“I just... Yeah. I'm good Doc.” Barry's voice wavered. He was far from okay and they both knew it. “I... I might as well go after him, right? He's the only lead I got right now.” He didn't want to keep talking about what just happened so he tried going back to what he was asked earlier.

Doc watched him for a moment and nodded to the door, “You should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help yah stock up on stimpacks and such. She'll probably be at the saloon. I reckon some of the other folks might be able to help yah too. And the metal fella, Gideon, who pulled yah outta your grave.” He gave Barry a small smile and clapped his shoulder. “If yah ever get hurt out there come right back. I'll fix yah up. Just try not to get killed anymore.”

He snickered a bit, “I'll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Doc.” Barry nodded and walked out of the house, wincing as his eyes readjusted to the bright desert sun.  He started mapping his way to New Vegas on his Pip-Boy and the strangers last words came to mind. It seemed to be one of the things he was able to remember from that night with little difficulty.

_The game was rigged from the start…_

Barry let out a laugh and ran a hand over the bandages around his head. Maybe this 'game' wasn't as rigged as he though.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything like this in a long time and this is the first Flash related thing I've posted (even though I've written like three different things for it aside from this) I'm proud but also nervous as hell about it. The rest of the fics in the series will just be Barry going around and being his neutral karma self. I cant see him be strictly good because he'd probably do things that are considered 'bad' with good intentions so it'd balance out to neutral.


End file.
